


Scavengers

by Markovia



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, Attempted Murder, Birthday, But a little different, F/M, Knives, M/M, Sex, Shizuo's birthday fic, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 14:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13503219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: They both want to kill Shizuo Heiwajima. Or at least, that's easier than admitting the truth.





	Scavengers

**Author's Note:**

> A little two parter - I hope you enjoy! This is technically the fic I wrote for Shizuo's birthday but it's a little different as I wanted to write a confrontational scene between Izaya and Vorona. As usual, it was just word vomit from there. I've also written a separate one-shot that I'll post after editing which is a rather rare pair - Izaya/Vorona. I do hope you'll check it out if you get the chance!

 

Vorona does not fear him like others do. To her, he is nothing more than an insect - a ‘ _ blood-suckin’ louse’  _ just as Shizuo says. But she will not allow this disregard to make her sloppy, she’s here to kill him after all. The woman raises her hand to knock on the door that leads to his apartment and pats her thigh beneath her jacket to make sure the sheathed knife is still strapped to her thigh. Footsteps sound from behind the door, then comes the familiar tell of a lock turning. She has been watching his apartment for hours to make sure that he’s alone. His secretary left at seven thirty, now it’s nine and she’s certain that the informant will be receiving no further visitors. 

 

The door opens and Izaya steps closer to the threshold, a cheerful smile on his face. Vorona knows there is no positive emotion behind such a smile and wonders why he bothers smiling at all. He’s dressed in his usual attire, minus the coat, an outfit similar to the one she herself is currently wearing. Izaya’s gaze rakes slowly up and down her body, clearly not caring whether or not such an action would seem perverse, then he steps to one side and gestures into the apartment. 

 

“What a pleasant surprise, Miss Vorona,” he greets, nodding toward her. He speaks in Russian, perfect and clear, as if conversing in her native tongue. “Do come in.”

 

Vorona doesn’t reply, just follows his direction and steps across the boundary into the hallway. The door clicks shut, the locks turn again and before she can take another step there’s a heavy weight against her back and she’s shoved into the wall. Her hands catch on the wall before her face crashes into it but then she’s pushed again and her body is forced flat against the cool stone. Fingers clamp around one of her wrists as she brings up her elbow to try and jab the man behind her and soon her arm is yanked roughly up behind her back. Vorona hisses in pain and goes still, trying to work out the best way to twist out of his grip. Izaya is stronger than expected. She should have considered this prior to coming here, he is a man capable of clashing with Heiwajima after all. The man presses closer and her arm aches from the strain of the position. He’s almost flush against her back, she can feel his breath warm against the shell of her ear and the proximity is uncomfortable. Izaya chuckles and the sound sends an unfamiliar shudder down her spine. It’s this reaction that makes her retaliate. 

 

The Russian twists her free arm back and makes a grab for the knife strapped to her leg. Her fingers clasp the handle and she manages to unsheath the blade but Izaya’s hand closes around hers and forces it forward. The knife stabs into the wall and slides deep into the plaster, so far that when she tries to wrench it out it barely budges. Izaya keeps his hand over hers and pulls her other wrist higher up her back, forcing a pained gasp from Vorona. He laughs again, low and dangerous beside her ear, and pushes harder onto her until she can feel the lean muscles of his torso against her awkwardly bent arm. 

 

“Predictable,” he murmurs, derisively. 

 

Vorona opens her mouth to spit insults back at him but he pushes against her arm and the curses turn into an angry growl of pain. Her shoulder feels like it’s going to pop out of the socket if he keeps going. That would be inconvenient, her mission would be harder to complete with only one working arm, so she goes still and grinds her teeth together. Izaya hums in appreciation and lets go of the hand above her head so that he can yank the knife out of the wall but it takes a couple of goes before the blade slides free. The plaster around the hole crumbles and a light cloud of debris falls onto their heads. Eventually, he moves back and, to her relief, releases her other arm. When she moves it back in front of her to check it over her shoulder twinges in pain but thankfully there doesn’t seem to be any extensive damage. As she’s flexing her fingers she feels the cool, flat side of her knife against the back of her neck. 

 

“It seems rather rude to bring a weapon into someone else’s home but y’know what - I’m in a good mood today and will offer you a drink regardless,” Izaya says, words dripping with amusement. He sounds as if he’s joking with a good friend rather than holding a knife to the back of someone’s head.  He taps her shoulder with the flat of the blade. “Hands up please.”

 

Vorona slowly raises her hands beside her head and turns around to face him. The wide grin on his face shows he’s clearly pleased with himself and Vorona has to take in a deep breath to stop herself from trying to punch him. Her face still shows no expression, a talent she perfected during childhood, but there’s obvious anger burning in her eyes and that only pleases him further. 

 

“Only the one knife, huh?” Izaya states. He twists the weapon back and forth so the dim lamp light reflects off the blade. “Either you’re the worst assassin in the world or you hideously underestimated me.” The woman’s mouth twitches down into a slight frown. “Which is it?”

 

“It is neither,” Vorona replies. Her voice is less monotone when she speaks in Russian, though she still maintains the unusual formality and sentence structure. “I may have other weapons upon my person, for all you know.”

 

Izaya laughs lightly and shakes his head. “I checked for others whilst you were against the wall. What - did you think I was just feeling you up?” 

 

Vorona’s face flushes at the suggestion and she curses her own body for the reaction. “I do not need weapons to kill a person.”

 

“Eh, I guess not,” Izaya remarks, noting the hint of pink staining her cheeks. “But I think I’ll hang onto this knife for now, just in case.”

 

The information broker turns on his heel and heads down the hallways, jerking his head for her to follow. Vorona silently moves down the corridor after him. There’s a curled up line of wire in her bra that he doesn’t know about, she can use that to strangle him when the time is right. It’ll be more fuss than a knife but the more sadistic part of her will enjoy watching his face turn purple and his eyes bulge from their sockets. 

 

The hall opens up into a large living room, the walls adorned with books and files and expensive-looking artwork. There’s not much to discern who the occupant of this place could be without prior knowledge, no photographs or items of sentimentality. It reminds her somewhat of her Father’s house. Izaya flops down onto one of the leather sofas in the centre of the room and gestures for her to sit in an armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Vorona does as instructed and notices that there are two full glasses of wine already set out on the coffee table. The half-empty bottle of wine is re-corked in the centre. She looks up at Izaya and studies the smug look on his face. He knew she was coming. 

 

As if reading her mind, he says, “I have eyes and ears on every street corner, Vorona. Did you really think that no-one would notice a beautiful foreigner walking through Shinjuku? Especially one who has been seen hanging off the arm of Shizu-chan.”

 

Her glare intensifies at the use of that abhorred nickname. “His name is Shizuo.”

 

Izaya’s grin widens until his teeth are showing. “Aw, what’s this? A little crush?”

 

“I do not understand what you mean by ‘crush’.”

 

“You ‘like like’ Shizu-chan,” Izaya laughs, gleefully snatching up his glass of wine. Vorona still stares at him blankly, which makes him laugh even harder. Her eye twitches in annoyance. “You lo-o-ove him.”

 

“I do not underst-”

 

Izaya’s maniacal giggles interrupt her, so she closes her mouth and looks down at the floor. What is so funny, why is he laughing like this? The man must have lost his mind, she thinks, glancing back up at him. He relaxes his arms over the back of the sofa and places his feet up onto the coffee table, the picture of ease. 

 

“Ah, what a joke,” Izaya scoffs. He takes a sip of his drink and smacks his lips together in satisfaction. “Mmm, Namie really does have a nose for good wine. Please, enjoy. It’s not poisonous.” Vorona looks suspiciously at the glass. “I promise. If I’d wanted to kill you I could have done that when I had a knife to your throat. Plus, I’d never add poison to something this expensive - it’s such a waste.”

 

The woman stares blankly at the glass for a moment, then reaches forward and takes the stem between her fingers. She takes a hesitant sip and sighs - it is  _ good  _ and there’s no discernible flavour that would be cause for alarm. “It has a pleasant taste.”

 

“I will pass your compliments to Namie,” Izaya says, resting his cheek atop his knuckles. “So, I presume you came here to kill me?”

 

“Affirmative.”

 

“And this would be for our darling Shizu-chan?”

 

Vorona took another sip of her drink before nodding. “Shizuo is my opponent. You are consistently in way. If you were to be removed it would make my goal more attainable.” 

 

The information broker stares at her intently, gaze lingering a little too long to be comfortable. Then he laughs -  _ again _ , she’s getting sick of that sound - and shakes his head. “Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to throw a spanner in the works and not only because I’d rather keep on breathing.”

 

“What do you mean?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. 

 

“Shizu-chan is a simple minded animal and though he surprises me at times, I think I can say this with certainty - he wouldn’t want you to kill me,” Izaya drawls, cocking his head to the side. “He would feel guilty for making a murderer out of you.”

 

Vorona visibly stiffens but she speaks as bluntly as ever. “Am already murderer.”

 

Izaya smiles lazily and waves a hand in the air. “Yes, but he doesn’t know about that, does he?”

 

An unfamiliar squirming sensation starts in her stomach. Vorona is an intelligent woman, she’s read enough to know it is guilt even if she hasn’t really felt it before. Izaya’s eyes darken, he looks as if he can see straight through her stoic veneer at the weaknesses underneath. He’ll pick at them like a vulture if she falters, so she drags in a breath and hardens her gaze. 

 

“No need to tell him. That is in the past, he is only opponent worth time now.”

 

“Oh yeah?” he smirks. “Then why are you here trying - and failing - to kill me?” 

 

Vorona swallows a large gulp of wine and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Shizuo would be glad to be rid of you.”

 

“ _ Shizu-chan  _ would hate you if you killed me. Not only for the guilt you’d make him feel,” Izaya snaps, a little too sharply. The grin looks strained, his forehead is tense. “One of us is going to kill the other, no-one else is allowed.”

 

There’s a brattish tone to his words that Vorona picks up on, he seems like a child selfishly clinging to his favourite toy. She places the glass back on the coffee table and folds her arms across her chest. Something has just become clear, something she hadn’t seen or expected. “I see. You-“

 

“I suggest you don’t finish that sentence,” Izaya interrupts, baring his teeth in a threatening smile. His previous ease has dissipated, now his body is stiff with tension. “You’re a fighter, right Vorona? And so is Shizu-chan. If you want to defeat opponents like that, the ones with physical strength, then you don’t face them head on. A mental attack is far more effective in that situation.”

 

Vorona frowns. “What are you saying?”

 

“If you  _ really  _ want to defeat Shizu-chan then get into his head or preferably his heart. Get in there and dig your teeth in and  _ tear him apart _ ,” Izaya explains. He seems to be losing his calm by the second, his fingers are shaking as he gestures wildly about. The wine in his glass is spilling over the rim onto his clothes but he doesn’t seem to notice. “If you want to make him weak go kill his brother, not me. He wouldn’t care if I died.”

 

He goes quiet and settles back into the sofa cushions, peering absently into the remaining wine. Vorona unfolds her arms and laces her hands together in her lap. 

 

“I do not feel sorry for you,” she states, flatly. 

 

Izaya laughs harshly and places the glass back down on the table. When he looks back up at her there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Your honesty is appreciated. So, now that we’ve had a little chat about Shizu-chan, do you still want to kill me?”

 

Vorona feels the wire cold against the scar on her chest. It would be easy. He’s flushed, a little tipsy, there’s no chance of a surprise attack now. The idea isn’t so appealing now - she believes what Izaya has told her about Shizuo, it was something she should have considered before. There is still so much about this city and its citizens that she doesn’t know. 

 

“Negative,” she says, eventually. “Your death would mean nothing for my personal goals. Killing would be only for personal pleasure.”

 

The informant tuts under his breath. “Naughty naughty. We wouldn’t want Shizu-chan to find out about that little secret would we?”

 

“That-“ she pauses and balls her fingers into fists. “Would be detrimental.”

 

“Why?” Izaya asks, quirking a brow. “If you view him only as an opponent why would you care what he thinks of you? Answer - because you don’t think that is all he is. You think Shizu-chan is someone special. Ugh, just the thought of that makes me sick.” 

 

Vorona blinks and lets the informant’s words sink in. Shizuo is simply a challenge, the ultimate opponent - right? Izaya hums lowly, eyes half-lidded in self-satisfaction. She stands and he swiftly follows her movement. 

 

“You know, I could tell you more about Shizu-chan. Foes as we are, I know a lot about his weaknesses.”

 

She shakes her head and rounds the coffee table to stand in front of the information broker. “Not required. I shall go now, I have much to think on.”

 

“Mm, I’m sure you do. Do come and visit whenever you wish, this has been fun,” Izaya says, as she heads back toward the hallway. “Oh - Vorona!”

 

When she turns back to face him there’s something flying toward her face, so she quickly raises her hand and catches the object before it hits her. Pain explodes over her palm and when she opens her fist the knife Izaya pocketed earlier clatters to the ground, covered with blood. Vorona cradles her wounded hand close to her chest and glowers at the informant. Izaya is glaring back at her, all amusement drained from his face. Instead, his mouth is set in a hard line, his nose is wrinkled in disgust. 

 

“Send Shizu-chan my best.” 

 

She leaves without another word. 


End file.
